#I Stole The Male Lead's First Night

[pinceauarcenciel]

Full spread comic I did for the @wishing-for-a-good-ending zine! (from last year)

Ripley is such an adorable dork, I had lots of fun drawing her with her best maid, friend, and overly possessive lover (๑´ ▽｀๑)💖

👑 Leftover sales for the zine are open until the end of January 2023! Don't miss your chance to get a copy full of beautifuly illustrated awesome heroines to discover (or meet again)~ ✨

※ Fanart: I Stole the Male Lead’s First Night © Teava, Hwang Dotol, MSG / Webtoon

[lindoesntwin]

THE FIRST NIGHT WITH THE DUKE

A girl who swapped places with a minor character from a novel she has read due to a doll, ended up spending her first night with the duke who fell in love with her at first sight and is now set on marrying her. 

Other titles: I Stole the Male Lead’s First Night 

[the-weird-and-the-wacky]

I Stole The Male Lead's First Night

[soft-cloud-pillows]

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow Azriel x Reader

a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333

synopsis: azriel takes you for granted

Warnings: angst

pt.2

He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  

Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 

The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 

They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 

He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 

He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.

Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.

They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.

 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 

She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 

When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.

The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 

Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 

Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 

It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  

The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.

It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.

“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  

He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.

He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.

He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 

Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 

He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.

It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  

They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 

He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 

*****

You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 

It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 

You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.

But he would never see that. 

Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 

He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 

You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?

You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.

You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 

But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 

Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.

*****

It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 

Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.

Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.

Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.

“There was something in my room.” 

“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.

“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 

He's usually the one doing the sneaking.

His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 

This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.

“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.

Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 

The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 

It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.

A shadow. 

“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 

The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.

Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.

Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 

His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 

“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”

There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.

With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.

When he turned them back on you stood before him.

The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.

“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.

Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.

“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 

Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  

“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 

 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 

The lights flicker again and you're gone. 

Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.

next->

[normansnt]

Short Kings

(Hazbin Lucifer x trans male reader)

Warnings: noooonnneeee(:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were looking in the mirror at your fresh scars. You were born in hell...as a biological female sadly. At least coming out to anyone was not a problem due to you not having anyone.

This only changed when you were already a grown up. You kept yourself alive by breaking into rich looking houses and stealing stuff that you could sell for good money.

This is how you met your boyfriend of today as well, the big dick behind it all: Lucifer.

You wanted to rob his house in the middle of the night, but you just had to stop and look at a very cute tubber duck and this was when you got caught.

However he didn't really seem mad that you wanted to rob him. He even asked you to stay and have a cup of tea with him. Which at the end turned into you hugging him while he cried into your shoulder about how he has not seen his daughter in years and his wife left him.

While he was renting to you, you noticed that it stoped suddenly. He fell asleep, 'great' you thought.

Even though you had a shitty life, you were not a shitty person. You didn't hate the rich people you stole from you knew that thats just how it is one are lucky some aren't.

So you brought him to his bed. While you laid him down on his bed you took an actual good look at him. 'He's cute' you thought to yourself.

'And very fucking mentally damaged' you thought right after.

You wanted to leave, but something held you back. For some reason you felt for this little man. Also it has been a long while since you have slept in an actually comfortable bed so you decided to stay the night.

Little did you know you'd never leave after that.

And that you amazing boyfriend would be the reason you can finally be closer to your real self.

"My love" you heard your kings voice from besides you as he put his hands around your waist and put his chin on your shoulder.

"Those scars look rewashing on you" he commented while kissing your shoulder.

"My handsome, boyfriend" he continued to whisper praises while you smiled lightly.

You loved him so much.

"You know I'm really happy you tried to rob me" he mumbled into your shoulder.

You laughed at that.

"Yeah sure its cuz you found a boyfriend who is shorter than you" you got back at him.

"REALLY, ok now see I really don't think you're in the situation to be making short jokes" he said while putting his forearm on the top of your head and leaning on it.

"OK WOOOW big talk small guy" you said while elbowing him in the gut. In reaction to this he bent down in pain clutching his stomach.

You lifted his chin up with your hand and kissed him.

"Well, I don't mind being hit in the gut if this comes after" he told you as you both stood and he put his hands around your waist pulling you closer to him.

"You really look amazing" he said while looking at you. And this time it was truly you. Without the binder and yet still feeling amazing.

"Thank you" you whispered back as you two touched your foreheads together.

"Sooo...what do you say we celebrate my boyfriend finally feeling good in his body" he said after some time smiling cheekily.

"Oh, I'd be more than happy too my love." You smirked back as he took your hand and lead you to you guys's bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YALL THIS IS DEFINITELY ONE OF MY MOST FAVS HAZBIN FICS I HAVE EVR WRITTEN ITS SO SWEET😭

I LOVE LUCIFER SM🫠

Its also the first trans man fic I have ever written (which is quite sad looking at the fact that I'm a trans man myself😭)

BUT I SHALL DO BETTER IN THE FUTURE I PROMISE🫡🏳️‍⚧️🧡

Also I just wanna thank you guys again for all the love yall are amazing fr🥹🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

[readychilledwine]

The Cursed Ballet

Eris Week - Day 6 - AUs and Retellings

(Swan Lake)

Summary - As war with the Deathless God approaches, a new dancer entered Autumn turning Eris's world inside out.

Warnings - Beron, curses, Eris kind of being a male-whore to add interest later

A/N - Happy Day 6 of @erisweekofficial! So listen, I've written this 4 times and settled on it being a 3 part mini series. Otherwise, it got far too long, and I was worried people would lose interest. I love this concept, though, and I'm very excited to share it with you all.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Instruments being tuned as a stage was set were familiar noises to you. Especially now that your life has been flipped upside down.

You continued lacing the ribbons of your ballet flats, no one looking at you. No one even acknowledging your very existence. Why would they, though?

A human in the Autumn Court. A human who, to them, somehow stole the lead spot in this performance from a female who had probably been training 10 times longer than you have ever been alive. You were used to this, used to being forced to travel and perform since he came and ruined everything.

You'd been to countless places the last few years, cities you had never dreamed of seeing, people and Fae you never thought you would meet. He always forced you to come back to Prythian, though. You had danced in all the mortal kingdoms, in every court. Yet for some reason he kept you here, anchored to this place like a second prison in case your body was no longer enough.

Of the 7 courts, Autumn was your favorite to dance in. The beauty of the leaves, the crisp fresh air, the well maintained stage. It was all enough to distract you from why you were truly here. From the magic the plagued your body. You finished tying the slippers around your ankles, mind trying not to linger on the curse you and your older sister now shared. “It's fine,” you whispered. “You've danced in front of thousands of fae.”

Your warm ups were spent alone as well, the isolation you were forced to endure was the cherry on top of this curse. The first contact you'd have tonight was a tall, slender female looking you up and down before declaring they were ready for you to stage.

Eris groaned from his place in his family's play box. He loved the ballet, he loved the graceful choreographed dances, the stories told through music and movement, but he would be lying to himself if he didn't say he was annoyed. 

His recent flavor of the week had been whining in his ear for 72 hours, 48 minutes, and exactly 23 seconds regarding his father's demands for a mortal girl to be put in the role of Odette. 

His current lover was pretty.

But she wasn't pretty enough for him to listen to the complaints and crying day in and night out. 

Eris felt himself freezing as the human girl took the stage. Every movement was clean, exact, graceful. She may as well have been fae with the way she made it seem as though she was the music. He didn't clock his father's smirk, the look of sick satisfaction Beron had. 

“Pretty little thing, isn't she,” Beron said softly to him. “And so very talented for being human.” 

Eris nodded, “Does she.. look familiar?” Flaming red hair in a tight bun, long elegant limbs. Her nose, the shape of her eyes, all of it felt so familiar to Eris, yet he could not place her. 

That is, until the scene.

Eris looked at his father, the High Lord still smirking in his seat, “And why is one of his spies here?”

Beron rolled his eyes, glancing at Eris as the fae applauded, throwing flowers to the mortal girl. “He needed someone to keep an eye on her while he handled more pressing matters.”

“He, an all powerful sorcerer, could not handle taking a 26 year old human female with him to handle matters?”

“I've heard she's rebellious,” Beron stood as the girl exited the stage. “Besides, she requires water at night.”

Eris's eyes slowly shut, but he followed Beron, the understanding of that cryptic message hitting his heart. 

You tried not to be afraid as Beron Vanserra dragged you through the gardens of the Forest House by your upper arm. His son followed behind you two, refusing to look your way. “Please, you are hurting me.”

“I was informed you needed a heavy hand. He may tolerate your games, but I will not, girl.” 

It was a moment Eris would remember long after she was gone, his father throwing a mortal woman to the mudded ground. The noise she made on impact had him shifting from side to side, eagerly awaiting Beron's departure from Crystal Lake. 

“Watch her until it happens, she won't be able to leave the lake once it does. If she tried to run, kill her.” 

As soon as he was away, as soon as Eris knew they were safe, he rushed to her. “Are you alright?”

You could only nod at him, tears in your eyes as a nearly silent sob managed to make it's way through your throat. 

“Does she know you're here,” Eris asked gently. “Does Vassa know you're here?”

“No,” Your tone was firm. “My presence here is a trap. For your brother, Jurian, and her.”

Eris processed the information like a complex novel, “He's near, isn't he?”

You focused in on the curse that bound you to him, “Yes, but no. He's still trapped on his lake, but he can.. project himself for small amounts of time.”

Your eyes finally met his and Eris's whole world shifted and changed. 

The bond was dull due to only being able to half click into place, but it was there, creating a harmonious rhythm with his own heartbeat as the moon began to rise behind the two of you. 

He understood why you would need the lake then, what your curse had been. Glowing golden light surrounded you, engulfing your figure before dying out. 

And now Eris found himself trapped watching as his mate got into the water, defeat clear in even this form. 

“Rhysand,” he called in his mind. “We have a complication.”

He sent Rhysand what had just happened, sent him the image of you floating on the clear waters of the lake. 

“Be careful,” Rhysand's voice came back slowly. “Vassa says her sister's curse is more dangerous than her own.” 

But Eris didn't respond, his eyes on the swan that had taken the place of his mate. 

How absolutely cruel to curse Vassa to her bird form by day and to be a woman by night, but you a woman by day, swan by night.

Two sisters left chasing each other. 

A curse Eris now made his personal mission to break.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[shadowdaddies]

I'm going to self project here, but can I request Fenrys beating the living sh*t out of reader's abuser? I need this... as self-care ngl

I'm not sure why I spent so long building the backstory for Reader but it was fun and I kind of want to write a series based on it now? Anywho, Fenrys does a little more than beat up the abuser👀 I got carried away oops

Hope Reborn

Fenrys Moonbeam x Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, slavery, just very canon-typical trauma beware

During Adarlan’s conquest of Terrasen, you tried to escape to the Southern Continent with the man you had been in a relationship with, following his lead on a path he had charted for the both of you through the Perranth Mountains to head south.

It was outside the city of Perranth when Adarlan soldiers stopped you. Knowing that your attire immediately gave you away as Orynthian, you took your partner’s hand, ready to flee for your lives back into the forest. The pain of losing your home, your family, your culture, hadn’t broken you yet. But as the man you loved held out his hand for a couple coins, yanking you toward the soldiers’ waiting arms, you shattered. 

The one person you had left in this world, who you believed that you could trust, had sold you for a couple pieces of silver. He walked into the forest, never turning back. Never seeing the beatings, the unspeakable things the Adarlan soldiers did to you on the way to Endovier.

You became a slave in the salt mines, learning the language of Eyllwe from those imprisoned alongside you. One girl, a few years younger than you, was also from Terrasen. The two of you would talk and reminisce on the fields of pine trees and memories of Orynth. Her name was Celaena, and when she was taken from Endovier to the king’s castle, you weren’t sure that you could handle losing one more person in your life.

Months passed as you labored away in the salt mines, reflecting on the family and friends you’d lost, and the man who betrayed you. As you dared a look around the dirt yard, eyeing the guards as they taunted the other slaves with their whips, you became resolute in your plan for vengeance - against your former lover, against the guards, against the king.

So when you woke up that fateful morning to see the riots had begun, you grabbed your pick axe, cutting down any guard who dared to stand in your way as you ran for your freedom. You were one of the few who survived the riot, but at this point you were a shell of the human being you once were. You didn’t know light or love. You only knew survival. 

Learning your lesson from before, you stole drying clothing from a nearby village and began your journey southeast towards Rifthold. You found a life in the city as a barmaid in a tavern while you slept in an abandoned apartment, biding your time while you created a plan.

The perfect opportunity fell into your lap one rainy night, that you had no idea would change your life forever. You were leaving the tavern after a long shift, your cloak tugged over your head moreso to avoid any men approaching you than to keep your hair dry. 

A woman running down the street caught your eye, and you stopped to watch as she leapt into the arms of a man. Her own hood fell down, revealing reddish-blonde hair as the couple embraced for a long moment. You were about to turn away, eager to escape the rain when the woman turned, locking eyes with you.

A choked sob escaped you as you recognized her. Tanner, healthier, happy - but you would know those distinct golden-turquoise eyes anywhere. She must have recognized you too, for Celaena bolted towards you, pulling you in as you were hugged for the first time in years.

“How are you here?” she said through tears, glancing over her shoulder as three other people slowly approached behind her. 

You smiled, sniffling as you wiped happy tears from your eyes. “I got out during the uprising. How are you here?”

Celaena looked towards her friends, giving a slight nod to the two males in particular before turning back to you. “Will you come with me?”

That small piece of hope inside of you sparked at her offer, and you found yourself nodding, letting yourself be led into yet another unknown. You followed the group up to an apartment, where Celaena sat you down and explained who she really was.

Your world tilted on its axis as you were filled with more hope than you had since the conquest of Terrasen, immediately swearing allegiance to Aelin, your queen. You traveled with her group to Skull’s Bay, finding your purpose in preparing Terrasen for war against Erawan, and to reestablish your home.

It was in Skull’s Bay that you met Fenrys, the most beautiful male you had ever seen. You formed an instant connection, drawn to his jovial nature. He was incessantly kind and positive despite everything that he had been through, the perfect balance and glimmer of light that you had been searching for your entire life. 

And yet, all good things seem to be ripped from you. Fenrys and Aelin were taken from you, leaving a hole in your heart that could never be filled, never be rebuilt. If not for Rowan’s determination, his drive to find his wife, you might have been broken completely. But your new family gave you the strength you needed to find Aelin and Fenrys. 

As a human, you didn’t know if you were capable of having a bond, but what you felt for Fenrys - how you swore you could feel his pain, how he missed you while he was with Maeve - was as close to a bond as you could imagine. It wasn’t a spark of hope that flared in your chest when you reunited with Fenrys when he escaped Maeve, it was an eternal flame. You knew that you would marry this male one day.

When that day came, and you stood beside your husband as part of Queen Aelin’s Court in front of all of Terrasen, the last person you expected to see what the man you once loved. The man who sold you into slavery, standing to the side with the rest of the courtiers.

Rage filled you, at him, at Adarlan, at yourself, at the world for allowing a man so vile to not only survive, but seemingly thrive. You hadn’t realized how much your grip on Fenrys’s hand had tightened until your husband winced - but instead of pulling away, he lifted your hand to his lips. 

Pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, Fenrys’s onyx eyes found yours, drawing you from those dark thoughts. “What is it, my love?” he asked, voice so soft you could melt into it.

You swallowed thickly, forbidding yourself from giving that spineless excuse for a man another look. Taking a deep breath, you pulled Fenrys in for a hug as you murmured your confession into his shirt. “You know my first love? Who sold me to Endovier? He’s here. In the blue jacket.”

Fenrys stiffened under your touch, fae instincts taking over as a low growl formed in his throat. You swore you felt the temperature in the room rise as your husband honed in on the man like a predator. 

“What do you want me to do?” he whispered, voice lethally quiet as he held you close.

Looking up, you couldn’t help the genuine smile that brightened your features as you savored the feeling of this male, who you knew would do anything for you. This male who gave you the love you never dreamed was possible. 

“I don’t want you to do anything. I have everything I need, and more,” you whispered back, standing up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. 

Fenrys gave you a wolfish grin, seemingly satisfied with your answer before he dared to look back into the crowd. His gaze flicked to where Rowan stood on the dais, the two in silent communication, before Rowan declared court dismissed. 

“I have some matters to take care of with Rowan, and I will be back shortly. Alright, my love?” Fenrys questioned, a kiss to your temple before you nodded, heading back to the sitting room where Aelin and Lysandra shortly joined you.

Time passed as you relaxed, enjoying chocolates and discussing books with your friends when Rowan stumbled through the door, Fenrys behind him. The two males had blood staining their shirts, busted knuckles quickly healing as they noticed your concerned expression. 

Clearing his throat, Fenrys brushed his blonde hair from his face as he strode towards you in an attempt at acting nonchalant. 

“Fen, love, what did you do?” you drawled, arching an assessing brow as you sipped your tea. 

“Nothing. Rowan and I had some matters to attend to, as I said,” he shrugged, reaching for a chocolate from the table in front of you. Understanding dawned, and you gasped.

Reaching for his bloodied hand, you pulled it towards you as you examined the wounds. “Fenrys Moonbeam! You did not hit that man, did you? I don’t need to worry about him anymore, love.”

Rowan snorted from where he lounged on the arm of Aelin’s chair. “He didn’t just hit him,” Rowan paused, green eyes focusing on you with sincerity. “And trust me, you will not have to worry about him ever again.”

Alarmed, you glanced to Lysandra in disbelief, your friend shaking her head as she lifted a chocolate to her mouth. “I wouldn’t ask them to elaborate if I were you,” she muttered, popping the dessert with a satisfied moan.

Rubbing your temples, you stood, wrapping Fenrys’s arms around you as you buried your head against his warm, toned chest. 

“Are you mad?” he whispered.

With a deep sigh, you looked up, brushing back his blonde curls behind his ear as you admired his glittering black eyes, all anxiety leaving your body. “Officially speaking, I don’t condone your actions. But I love you, and whatever I did in some past life to deserve someone like you...” You trailed off, drawing the back of your hand down his cheek. “Thank you for giving me hope, Fenrys Moonbeam.”

[elryuse]

yandere ceo minji x secretary y/n ft. hanni???

A CEO Stole my Boyfriend

YANDERE CEO MINJI X MALE READER X HANNI

The jasmine first appeared subtly, a fleeting whiff that brushed past my nose as Y/n leaned in for a kiss. It was a foreign scent, not the familiar citrus and vanilla of my own perfume, but a heady, floral aroma that lingered long after he pulled away.

"What's that smell?" I asked, wrinkling my nose playfully.

Y/n, usually unflappable, stumbled over his words. "Uh, I, uh... must've walked by a new air freshener at the office."

His cheeks flushed a tell-tale pink, and a tiny seed of doubt sprouted in my gut. It was a flimsy excuse, but I chose to believe him. After all, Minji, our CEO, was notorious for pushing her employees to handle her eccentric demands. Extra-long hours and experimental air fresheners seemed par for the course.

But the scent persisted, clinging to Y/n's clothes like a secret memory. It coincided with the creeping changes in his behavior. Long hours at the office morphed into disappearing weekends, punctuated by terse phone calls and hurried excuses. The man known for his boundless energy and infectious smile seemed perpetually drained, a dark circle blossoming under his usually bright eyes.

"Work stress, huh?" I said one evening, trying to sound casual as I traced a finger along his furrowed brow.

Y/n flinched, his smile strained. "Yeah, just a rough patch. Minji's got us all jumping through hoops lately."

"Well, tell her to take it easy on you," I said, my voice tight with a growing unease I couldn't quite place. "You deserve a break."

He offered a weak smile. "I will. Maybe we can finally take that Napa Valley trip after all."

The anticipation crackled between us, a promise whispered under stolen kisses and shared dreams. Then, the announcement. Minji, her perfectly manicured nails tapping a staccato rhythm on the conference table, declared a "critical business trip" to LA. Y/n was needed, she proclaimed, urgency lacing her voice.

The air in the room went cold. "But what about our trip?" I blurted out, unable to contain the tremor in my voice.

Minji's eyes, usually calculating, flickered with something akin to amusement. "Oh, the Napa trip? I'm sure you two can reschedule. This, however," she said, her gaze lingering possessively on Y/n, "can't wait."

That night, as Y/n packed a meager overnight bag, the jasmine scent overwhelmed me. It clung to his clothes, a tangible reminder of the secret life he seemed to be leading. My voice, usually brimming with love, faltered as I asked, "Something's wrong, Y/n. Tell me."

He met my gaze, the usual warmth replaced by a flicker of panic. "It's just work, Hanni. Nothing to worry about."

"Is it, though?" I pressed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Because lately, it feels like there's a whole lot you're not telling me."

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his already ruffled hair. "It's complicated, okay? Just trust me, this trip is important."

But trust, that fragile thread that bound us together, began to fray at the edges. The following weeks were an agonizing ballet of deceit. Calls became scarce, filled with awkward silences and fabricated stories about "unexpected board meetings" that stretched late into the night. The Napa Valley trip became a painful memory, a cruel promise unfulfilled.

One evening, as Y/n hurried off to another "late-night meeting," my suspicions reached a boiling point. "Where are you really going, Y/n?" I demanded, my voice laced with a newfound steel.

He hesitated, the jasmine scent swirling around him like a poisonous fog. "It's... work, Hanni. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," I said, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt.

Just then, Minji's voice, dripping with saccharine sweetness, echoed from the doorway. "Don't worry, Hanni. Y/n's just helping me with a little... late-night brainstorming session." Her eyes, cold and calculating, met mine for a fleeting moment before flickering back to Y/n. "We wouldn't want the company to suffer because of a little weekend getaway, would we now, darling?"

Y/n flinched at the pet name, a flicker of something akin to disgust crossing his face before it was quickly masked by forced compliance. "Of course not, Minji," he mumbled, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

Minji's smile widened, the tips of her perfectly manicured nails glinting under the harsh office lights. It was a smile that promised both reward and punishment, depending on who she was addressing. Her gaze, previously cold, softened slightly as it landed on Y/n. "Excellent. Now, shall we get going, darling?" she purred, her voice dripping with a possessiveness that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Y/n offered a weak nod and mumbled a goodbye as he scurried past me, the jasmine scent clinging to him like a shroud. The air grew thick with a suffocating silence as the door clicked shut behind him. Minji's smile, once playful, morphed into a predatory smirk as she turned her icy gaze towards me.

"So," she drawled, her voice taking on a mocking tone, "worried your little weekend getaway plans got foiled?"

My throat tightened, the words catching in my chest. Fear, cold and primal, coiled in my stomach. Minji wasn't just our CEO; she was a force of nature, a hurricane with a designer wardrobe. Witnessing her manipulate Y/n with such ease sent shivers down my spine.

"It's not a 'little' getaway," I managed to force out, my voice barely above a whisper.

Minji scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "Oh please, darling. Don't tell me you and Y/n actually have anything exciting planned. Movie night and takeout for the hundredth time? Sounds thrilling." Her words were laced with a cruel amusement, each syllable designed to tear down the fragile image of our relationship.

Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring the already distorted image of Minji reflected in the glass wall behind her. Maybe she was right. Our relationship, while comfortable, lacked the spark she seemed to be dangling in front of Y/n. But to expose our vulnerabilities in front of this woman, this predator, felt like signing a death warrant.

Before I could muster a retort, Minji glided closer, her smile morphing into something sinister. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped a haunting rhythm on the glass wall beside me. "You see, Hanni," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous, "Y/n craves excitement. He craves a challenge. Does takeout and Netflix offer that?"

I flinched at the venom in her voice, the way she spoke of Y/n as if he were a prize she'd already claimed. "We have a connection you wouldn't understand," I choked out, a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of power.

Minji threw her head back and laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed in the empty office. "Oh, honey," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "The connection you have is about as exciting as watching paint dry. Trust me, Y/n deserves more. He deserves someone who can match his brilliance, someone who thrives on the same energy he does."

"And who might that be?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

The smile on Minji's face widened, revealing a glimpse of something sharp and predatory beneath the veneer. "Why, me, of course," she purred, leaning in so close that I could smell the cloying sweetness of her jasmine perfume. "Y/n and I," she continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "we understand each other. We push each other. We're a perfect storm, darling. And let me tell you," she added, her eyes glinting with a chilling possessiveness, "he much prefers the view from here."

A strangled sob escaped my lips, tears streaming down my face. Her words were a brutal assault, stripping away the years of shared laughter, quiet nights in, and whispered dreams. In her warped reality, the comfortable love we shared was nothing compared to the thrilling chaos she offered.

Minji, seemingly satisfied with the devastation she'd wrought, straightened her designer blouse and adjusted her diamond necklace. "Well, this has been delightful," she purred, her voice saccharine once more. "But duty calls. Enjoy your… quiet evening, Hanni."

As she turned to leave, she paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on me with a malicious glint. "Oh, and one more thing," she said, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Don't even think about trying to get in my way. Y/n belongs to me now."

With that, she swept past me, leaving behind a trail of toxic sweetness and a suffocating silence.I collapsed into the nearest chair, the sobs racking my body morphing into a broken, tearful mess. The woman I loved, the man I thought I knew, both seemed to be slipping through my fingers, stolen by a predator who thrived on manipulation and control. The future I'd envisioned, a future filled with shared dreams and laughter, lay shattered at my feet, replaced by a chilling uncertainty that promised nothing but heartache.

Hours bled into one another, the silence of the apartment deafening. Every creak of the floorboard sent a jolt of fear through me, every rustle of leaves outside my window sounded like approaching footsteps. Finally, the sound of the key turning in the lock shattered the silence.

Y/n stumbled in, his face etched with exhaustion. The jasmine scent, once overwhelming, was now faint, barely clinging to him. Relief, a sweet and unexpected sensation, flooded my chest. But before I could speak, he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"Y/n" I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and weary. "Hey," he croaked, his voice strained. "Sorry I'm late. Minji kept me swamped with work."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Work, huh?" The word tasted like ash in my mouth.

He sighed, a deep, weary sound. "Look, Hanni, about the trip…"

"Forget the trip," I whispered, cutting him off. "What's going on, Y/n? Who is she?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering around the room before settling on me. "It's complicated," he began, then stopped, running a hand through his already ruffled hair. "She... she needs me, Hanni. For the company, I mean."

The lie, flimsy and transparent, hung heavy in the air. "Needs you how?" I pressed, my voice trembling.

Y/n winced, as if the truth pained him. "Look," he said, his voice low, "there's a big deal in the works, and Minji... she wants a public image boost. Apparently, being seen with a successful, 'happily engaged' partner is part of the strategy."

My stomach lurched. Engaged? The word echoed in the room, a cruel mockery of our crumbling relationship.

"Engaged?" I choked out, the word a foreign sound on my tongue.

"It's fake, Hanni," he said hurriedly, reaching for my hand. "Just a show for a month, to close the deal. Then everything goes back to normal. I promise."

His touch, usually a source of comfort, felt foreign now. Doubt gnawed at me, a persistent, unwelcome guest. "A month?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. "A month of pretending to be in love with her, while I sit here alone, wondering if you'll even come home at night?"

Tears welled up in his eyes, mirroring the ones staining my cheeks. "Hanni, please. You have to trust me. This is about our future, ours. If I lose this deal, we both lose our jobs. You know how ruthless Minji can be."

His words held a chilling truth. Minji wasn't above playing dirty, and the thought of losing everything, our relationship and our careers, sent a fresh wave of terror through me.

Y/n cupped my face, his touch gentle but his eyes filled with a desperation that mirrored my own. "This is just temporary, Hanni. I love you. You know that, don't you?"

I searched his eyes, desperately seeking the truth. "Yes," I whispered, my voice thick with tears. "But what if this 'temporary' situation changes something? What if..."

"There are no ifs, Hanni," he insisted, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hand. "We'll get through this. Together."

His words offered a fragile comfort, a lifeline in a storm of uncertainty. But as I looked into his exhausted eyes, a flicker of doubt remained. Could our love survive a month-long performance of fake love with a manipulative predator? The answer, like the future itself, remained shrouded in a chilling uncertainty.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring the image of Y/n cupping my cheeks. His voice, raw with emotion, echoed in my ears. "This is just temporary, Hanni. I love you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," I whispered, clinging to his words like a lifeline. The terror of losing him, of losing everything, receded replaced by a fragile trust. "We'll get through this. Together."

He pulled me into a tight embrace, his body trembling against mine. In that moment, our love felt like a shield against the encroaching darkness. But unbeknownst to me, the darkness had already taken root.

Across town, in a luxurious hotel suite overlooking the city, Minji watched the news report with a triumphant smile. Y/n, his face pale and drawn, stood beside her, a hand awkwardly resting on her waist as they announced their "engagement" to the world. The image was perfect – the epitome of power couple success.

But behind the carefully crafted facade, a different story unfolded. Moments before the cameras rolled, Minji's demeanor had shifted from playful CEO to a cold, calculating predator. A glint of madness flickered in her eyes as she brandished a small, silver pistol, the weight of it chilling in Y/n's hand.

"See, darling," she purred, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness, "sometimes a little incentive goes a long way. After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to your precious Hanni, would we?"

The world spun around Y/n. The image of Hanni's tear-streaked face, filled with a love that knew nothing of the storm brewing around them, flashed in his mind. The gun felt foreign in his hand, a grotesque symbol of the twisted game he was forced to play.

Terror choked him, a cold, metallic taste in his mouth. He knew then, with a chilling certainty, that Minji wasn't bluffing. This wasn't just about a business deal or a public image boost; this was about possession, about claiming him as her own twisted trophy.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the image of the predator before him. "You can't do this," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

Minji's smile widened, devoid of warmth. "Oh, but darling," she cooed, leaning in close, the scent of her jasmine perfume thick and cloying, "I already have."

With a cruel laugh that echoed in the opulent room, Minji shoved the gun back into his hand. "Now come along, fiancé," she purred, her voice dripping with a venomous possessiveness, "the world awaits its new power couple."

Y/n, his heart a lead weight in his chest, allowed himself to be led, a puppet on the strings of a madman's twisted game. As they stepped out into the blinding glare of the cameras, his smile felt like a lie, a mask hiding the terror that gnawed at his soul. He was trapped, a pawn in a deadly game, forced to play along for the sake of the woman he loved, oblivious to the darkness that now hung over their future.

As Y/n and Minji entered the office hand-in-hand, a wave of unexpected chaos greeted them. Gone was the usual quiet hum of productivity; instead, the air crackled with a manic energy. Cheers erupted from cubicles, confetti rained down from the ceiling, and streamers, a tacky explosion of colors, adorned the walls. Managers, usually stoic figures of authority, popped champagne bottles, their faces flushed with something more potent than bubbly.

Hanni, who had been anxiously waiting by the entrance, felt a cold dread seep into her bones. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the cacophony of celebration. She watched, paralyzed by a horrifying realization, as her co-workers, oblivious to the truth, showered congratulations on the "happy couple."

Minji, her smile stretched wide and predatory, reveled in the attention. Y/n, on the other hand, seemed like a ghost amidst the pandemonium. His face was pale and drawn, his eyes filled with a haunted emptiness.

One of the managers, a normally reserved woman named Sarah, approached them, a bottle of champagne clutched in her hand. "Congratulations, you two! We're all so thrilled!" she gushed, spraying them both with a liberal dose of bubbly.

Y/n offered a weak smile, the clinking of the glass against his shaking hand the only sound he managed. Minji, however, took center stage. She draped her arm possessively around Y/n's waist, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

"Thank you, Sarah! We're so happy to share our news with everyone." Her gaze, sharp and calculating, flickered towards Hanni who stood frozen by the door. A cruel smile played on her lips as she leaned in close to Y/n, her voice barely a whisper.

"Now," she purred, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent, "how about you seal the deal with a kiss for your fiancee?"

Y/n flinched, his body recoiling at the touch of her lips. But trapped in his web of lies, he had no choice. He turned towards Hanni, his eyes filled with a silent apology, and leaned in. The kiss, devoid of any passion, was a grotesque parody of intimacy played out for a cheering audience.

Hanni's world shattered. The man she loved, the future they had planned, all felt like a cruel illusion. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the scene before her. The cheers, the congratulations, the celebratory atmosphere – it all felt like a twisted nightmare.

Through the haze of her heartbreak, she saw Minji's triumphant smirk. It was a victory dance on the ruins of her love, a chilling reminder of the predator who had snatched away her happiness.

Grief and a cold fury warred within her. She wouldn't let Minji win. She had to find a way to expose the truth, to save Y/n from the monster he was now entangled with. But how? In the midst of the celebratory chaos, a desperate plan began to form in her mind. She had to act fast, before it was too late.

Hanni stumbled back as the cheers died down, the taste of champagne metallic on her tongue. The office, once a familiar space, now felt like a gilded cage, the air thick with the stench of Minji's victory. Y/n stood beside her, his face an emotionless mask, a heartbreaking reflection of the love they once shared.

"Congratulations are in order, wouldn't you agree, Hanni?" Minji purred, her voice dripping with false sympathy. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped a cruel rhythm against a champagne flute.

Tears welled up in Hanni's eyes, blurring the image of the celebrating crowd. Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow, but the thought of losing Y/n altogether was an unbearable prospect. She had to play along.

"Y-yes," Hanni stammered, forcing a watery smile. "Congratulations to you both."

Y/n's gaze flickered towards her, a flicker of pain crossing his features before being quickly masked by a practiced smile. "It's for the best, Hanni. You understand, don't you?"

Her heart ached, but a new resolve hardened her voice. "Yes, Y/n," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "If this is what makes you happy, then I… I support you."

A slow smile spread across Minji's face. This was the reaction she'd craved, the sweet surrender of a rival. "Oh, Hanni, darling," she cooed, leaning in close. The jasmine perfume was almost intoxicating, a heady mix of power and danger.

"There's always room for one more in this little game," Minji continued, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Perhaps you could be Our devoted… Pet. A loyal friend, always by Our side, wouldn't that be delightful?"

The suggestion was repugnant, a twisted mockery of their love. But the thought of being near Y/n, even under these humiliating circumstances, was a lifeline in a storm of despair.

Swallowing her pride, Hanni offered a weak nod. "Yes, Minji. I would… I would love to be your P-pet."

A triumphant glint sparked in Minji's eyes. "Excellent!" she declared, clapping her hands together. "Then this calls for a toast! To new beginnings, and a very happy… unconventional family!"

The champagne flute felt heavy in Hanni's hand as she clinked it against Minji's. This wasn't the future she'd envisioned, but it was the only way she could see Y/n again. She had become a pawn in a twisted game, a pet to appease a predator. But within the confines of this gilded cage, a spark of defiance flickered. She would bide her time, gather evidence of Minji's threats and manipulations. One day, she would expose the truth and reclaim her love, even if it meant playing the part of the devoted companion for a while longer. The game had just begun, and Hanni, though forced to her knees, was far from broken.

[lovelyinconsistentices]

°˖➴ 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙳 ⋆· ༘ *

‧₊˚ ꩜彡┆𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 .ᐟ

Todd shows up at readers house in the middle of the night, still grieving over the situation with Wallace and needing comfort.

✎ᝰ.┆𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚁𝙴 .ᐟ

Oneshot and Third-Person, hurt comfort. Fluff and Mild Angst.

‧₊˚ ꩜彡┆𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 .ᐟ

Todd Ingram X Gender-neutral Reader

✎ᝰ.┆𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙾 .ᐟ

Comfort Crowd by Conan Gray.

‧₊˚ ꩜彡┆𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 .ᐟ

Requested by anon, thank you for the request! <3

The first thing that was least expected when they opened the door to see who was knocking at the middle of night was Todd, he was a disheveled mess when their gaze had settled on him. His eyes brimming with tears, a bag of chips in hand as he stressed eat. They had heard a lot about what happened on set, with Wallace leading him on. It was expected when they learned him and the male were "running lines" in his trailer, as if Wallace would waste his time on something like that. They absolutely doubted it, he had a repetition as well for sleeping around.

The amount of times they've heard Stacy complain about how Wallace stole her boyfriend again as they waited for their drink was ironic at this point, Scott's roommate was bad news. They truly felt bad for Todd, the only reason they hadn't said anything was because they didn't want to hurt the male's feelings but he ended up getting hurt anyway. In the they expected the male to get over it quite quick, I mean he still had Envy after all. Which they had listened to her complain for hours once she had learned about it, seems she tried fighting Wallace as well. Amusing really, but it seems they were wrong about the male getting over Wallace fast.

Todd was a wreck as he blabbered about something that was incoherent to their ears, they let out a soft sigh as their eyes softened. Immediately parting their lips in response as they stood there, "Shh, slow down and breath. Come in, you know you're always welcome Todd." They stated as they moved to allow the man to walk in. Which he nodded in return, relieved that they weren't upset with him possibly waking them up so late at night. Making his way into the house slowly, immediately being greeted by the warmth of their home.

Now they were both on the couch together as Todd had his face buried into the crook of their neck, sure the male was known for being quite touchy but they weren't that familiar with this as they ran their fingers through his hair. They truly wondered what Wallace did to make him like this and where was Envy, after all they least expected him to come to them instead of his own girlfriend or well ex. He didn't even know if they were still together, though it seemed like she was more mad at Wallace than Todd. Thinking those thoughts over in their head truly did hurt more than they expected, after all they did have one-sided feelings for the male.

They were just glad to have him as a friend even if meant their feelings would never be returned, they'd just have to push them too the side for now or at least until they moved on. A heavy breath left their lips as they sat there, their arm still around the male as his cry's slowed down. His breathing still unstable but it seemed like he was starting to calm down, they truly didn't mind the silence. Deciding to not say anything as they didn't want to cause him to cry again, avoiding the topic of Wallace and him for now would be best.

"Feeling better now? If so we can talk about something to distract you or if you want I have some movies you can pick from to watch, you can stay the night or as how long as you need. I'll be right here if you need me, speaking of that I'm sure you're hungry. Junk food isn't fulfilling, you'll need a real meal. How about pasta?" They asked as they pondered on what to make, perhaps pasta salad and bread. Todd just nodded in response, perhaps not being able to manage words as he was tired or too embarrassed to say anything. He just stayed there, leaning his head against their shoulder before muttering a simple thank you that was soft and low.

It warmed their heart that they were able to help the male in the end, though they knew it was going to take a while before they got over their feelings for him. Continuing to run their fingers through his hair as they were lost in thought, it wasn't like it was anything new and at least Todd knew they were here if he needed them. His arms still wrapped around their waist as he let out slow exhales, soon the night would be shared with the two spending their time together in peace.

Todd picking out some old Disney movie from their stack as they made dinner, his mood slowly lightening up as he and them made small talk. The night ending with the two cuddled up on the couch as they watched the movie he picked out together, they were glad that Todd was feeling better now as they were able to finally go back to sleep in peace and this time they'd have the male by their side making it all even better.

[feralrabidcrow]

My Merc LGBTQ Headcanons

Disclaimer: my headcanons aren't set in stone so these are like, what I assume them to be in the average fic I write unless stated otherwise. For example, usually I headcanon Medic as bisexual, but I might make him gay in an AU if I want to explore that instead. And I might make a merc I usually headcanon as cis trans if that's a story I want to explore with them.

Scout: Bisexual and hasn't quite come to terms with it yet. He has a strong preference for women, but being stuck living closely with a bunch of men definitely has him experiencing thoughts he never did before.

Soldier: Transgender and technically bisexual, but he thinks he's straight because he considers having sex with Demoman every night 'masculine male bonding to strengthen our manly friendship'. Demoman doesn't have the heart to tell him that yeah, it's pretty gay. He's trans because the hypermasculine American patriot named Jane Doe of all things is just Valve spoonfeeding transgenderism to me. I also like to entertain the idea that he's forgotten that he's trans (lead poisoning) and regularly breaks into the medbay screaming at Medic about how the communists stole his penis until Medic finally gives up and just gives him bottom surgery.

Pyro: Genderqueer butch lesbian who uses any and all pronouns.

Demoman: Pansexual, it makes no difference to him what gender his lovers are. I think he's known this for a long time too, no sexuality awakening that caused him any turmoil, just always knew that he didn't have a preference.

Heavy: Gay, and unlike Demoman, he definitely did not know until very late in his life. After joining Team Fortress, to be exact. After meeting Medic, to be exactly exact. Living in isolation for so long definitely stunted his ability to explore his sexuality. He had a 'crush' on a girl when he was about 6, but he only liked her because she had red hair that he thought was pretty. Looking back, it meant about as much as a crush when you're 6 can be expected to mean. He always assumed that the reason he didn't feel a desire to find a woman and settle down, like his mother always hoped he would, was because he hadn't met enough women to want such a thing, and if he did meet the right woman, that's when the feeling would click. Then the feeling ended up clicking instead with a maniacal doctor who liked putting black market zoo organs in him.

Engineer: Biromantic and sex neutral asexual. He always assumed he just liked women, simply because he didn't realize he could like both. After Medic told him that he liked both women and men, things started making a lot more sense. He can handle being in some specific sexual situations, but he refuses to be on the receiving end of anything, and exclusively gives.

Medic: Bisexual, reciprosexual/recipromantic. In simpler terms, Medic does not feel romantic or sexual attraction to anyone unless he knows for certain that they're attracted to him first. As a result, he has never made a first move in his life, and is also sometimes very bad at picking up on romantic advances unless they're extremely blunt.

Sniper: Gay, I don't really know what else to say he just gives me huge homo vibes. He probably got a mindblowing handjob from a bloke behind a Macca's that changed his life or something. Yes I think high-tech TF2 Australia that's basically a spoof of Wakanda still has Macca's why wouldn't they.

Spy: Bisexual, I'm going to be honest I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Spy's sex life but he definitely fucks men look at him just look at him. He's fucking men. And Scout's mother but also men.

[delulustateofmind]

Forged in Fire: A New World pt2

A/n: this can be read by itself but here is the link to part one in case you would like more context. It is loosely inspired by 'I stole the male lead's first night' I wrote this because I could not for the life of me sleep, so if there's errors then I apologize, also my requests are open!

Summary: You wake up in a strange place :) Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Mostly crack, Angry!Azriel, lots of cursing

WC: 3.1k

Taglist: @kksbookstuff

*****

You had failed to realize some rather... critical things that had led up to this moment.

For one, you couldn’t read the Prythian language, though you could speak it. Then there was your complete lack of understanding regarding the social caste system and etiquette. And, of course, visiting that suspicious fortune teller at the Renaissance fair three weeks ago—an absolute steal at five dollars—had somehow landed you in this otherworldly situation.

It was your third day in the Night Court. You sat by the garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers and basking in the sunshine. But the serene setting did nothing to calm the storm of your thoughts, especially with the absolutely terrifying shadowsinger sitting next to you. You tried not to lust over him, but Azriel was a sight to behold. The book did not do him justice, nor did the fanart. In person, this male was an absolute lethal god—lean muscles, absolute slut hips, and an ass that could stop traffic. You tried not to drool as you sipped your tea at the table, attempting to focus on the floral beauty around you. Azriel was reading reports, occasionally sending glares your way.

You knew he hated the Vanserras, and he probably didn’t enjoy this babysitting duty when he could be spending time with Elain or doing spy things. Until he finally spoke.

“What the actual fuck, Y/n?” His cold tone sent a shiver down your spine. You gulped the sip of tea you’d just taken, staring into his golden eyes that seemed like shards of ice. What did you do?

You just stared at him. How could you respond to that? How could you respond to the cold, golden gaze he was sending your way, or the way he kept playing with the ring on his... wedding finger?

Fae don’t do human weddings.

“Wait, you’re married?” you stuttered out, looking at him with wide eyes. He scoffed, smirking at your shock.

“Yeah, to you. We got married right before the war, in a private ceremony. We’re mates, for fuck’s sake.” Azriel was furious. He stood up, his wings flaring out in anger. His shadows twirled around your wrists, locking you onto the chair as he moved closer to you.

“How utterly convenient you lost your memory, you have a heart condition that you never told me about, and I don’t know the fact that you visited a witch right before our ceremony?” His tone was dangerously low, like the calm before a storm. He wasn’t yelling—no, that would draw attention. His words were like shards of ice, cutting through the air with a menacing chill.

“How come you didn’t say anything? I mean, I arrived like three days ago,” you said, trying to sound casual. Maybe you could play this off. Everyone here thinks you have amnesia, that you are definitely not from another world and have entered the world of a popular fae smut series. You got this.

Okay, maybe you don’t got this, as Azriel moved closer to you, tilting your chin up to look at him as he gazed down at you. You were honestly surprised you hadn’t pissed yourself yet. They don’t call him the spymaster for no reason. “What was I supposed to say?” he started, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I haven’t told my family that I was mated to a maid for the Vanserra family, who now turns out to be their sister.” Whoever’s body you had just taken over, can have their body back and deal with this mess.

You pleaded to yourself mentally as he continued. “You’re just so full of surprises. Honestly, it’s really my fault, to begin with,” Azriel said with a bitter laugh. “I mean, I should have investigated my mate, but I figured, no, my mate wouldn’t lie to me and then after the war not talk to me for three weeks because she nearly died at Autumn’s camp, which I didn’t even know you were there.” Oh, he was mad. Heated. The absolute rambling this male was doing—fuck, you should pay for his therapy for all of this.

“I’m sorry that I don’t remember you,” you began, feeling a strange tug in your heart—was that the mating bond? Perhaps mentioning it would make the lethal predator before you less mad. “I still feel the bond, though,” you whispered, pulling Azriel from his heated rage fit.

Azriel’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, a mixture of anger and pain. “I just wish... you would have told me all of these things, that you would have prepared me for all of this,” he began, waving his hands as if showcasing the whole mess. “Rhysand knows we’re mates. I told him when you arrived.” Azriel scoffed, his bitterness evident. “I was surprised when it was you, standing there looking so shy, the way you bowed your head towards us. A Vanserra would never do that. That was the first sign that I knew you actually had lost your memories. That you were different.”

The rambling seemed to continue.

Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every movement. “You think I haven’t been trying to figure this out? Trying to understand why my mate would forget me? Why she would hide things from me? This isn’t just about the past three days. This is about trust. About knowing that my mate, my partner, would keep secrets that could get her killed.”

“I never wanted to hide anything from you,” you said softly, feeling the weight of his words. “I don’t know why this happened, but I’m here now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

Azriel’s expression softened slightly, the anger in his eyes dimming but not disappearing. “You have no idea how much I want to believe you,” he said, his voice low and filled with an emotion that made your heart ache. “But it’s going to take more than words. We’ll start with that witch, and we’ll go from there. But until then, no more secrets. No more lies. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you replied, feeling the gravity of the situation settle heavily on your shoulders. You were in over your head, if you had to the chance to talk to whoever’s body you took over. You were going to scream and shout at them for this. 

Azriel’s wings folded back slightly, and he released your wrists from the shadows, though the wariness didn’t leave his eyes. “We need to talk to that witch, one of the spies said they found the location” 

You nodded as he took your hand in his, his wedding ring brushing against you. A reminder that you were not the one he fell in love with. Within moments shadows surrounded the two of you, as you appeared in front of a shop with a cauldron shaped sign and an old oak door. A sign that said ‘Come in: We can change your life! No Refunds!” hung on the door. 

Azriel gave you a look that said ‘Really? You went here of all places for magic’ he pushed open the door for you, you trailed behind. What was peculiar was that the lady looked exactly like the lady from the renaissance festival. 

The witch’s eyes flicked up as you entered, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “Ah, welcome back, dear,” she said, her voice smooth, like an eerie melody. “I see my spell worked.” 

Azriel gave you a confused look as you pulled him outside with you. “We will be right back,” you said to the witch before bringing Azriel outside. “Okay, you said no secrets, right?” The male simply nodded with a confused expression. You continued, your voice hesitant as you looked around to make sure nobody was walking the empty street. “I am not from this world. I am from a modern world where you and your family are a part of a hit faerie smut series.” You said it so bluntly that you didn’t notice the way his face looked. The look was unreadable.

“You’re saying that I am a book character?” he stated. You knew you sounded crazy and were praying that Azriel was not going to send you straight to the dungeons.

You nodded, feeling a sense of desperation. “Yes, and I don’t know how I got here. I visited a fortune teller at a Renaissance fair, and the next thing I knew, I was here, in this body, with no memories of this world.”

Azriel's expression shifted from confusion to something more guarded. “And you expect me to believe this? That my entire life, my family, everything I know is just... fiction in your world?”

“I know it sounds insane,” you pleaded, “but it's the truth. I’m not trying to deceive you. I just want to figure out how to fix this, how to make things right.”

He took a deep breath, his golden eyes searching your face for any sign of deceit. “If what you're saying is true, then this witch is our best chance at getting answers. But if you’re lying...”

“I’m not,” you interrupted. “I swear, Azriel. I want to find out what happened just as much as you do.”

He held your gaze for a long moment before nodding curtly. “Fine. Let’s see what she has to say.”

You both re-entered the shop, the witch’s eyes gleaming with interest. “Had to have a little chat, did you?” she asked, amusement in her tone.

“Yes,” Azriel said, his voice cold and authoritative. “And now we need answers. She claims she’s from another world, one where our lives are just stories. Can you confirm this?”

The witch’s smile widened. “Ah, yes. A classic case of cross-reality displacement. Rare, but not unheard of. The spell I cast was meant to fulfill her old self’s deepest desire, and it seems that desire was to escape her mundane life and find herself in a world of magic and adventure.”

“Old self?” you asked, your voice tinged with urgency.

The witch shrugged delicately. “The actual Vanserra. When I spoke to you, she had already set the spell in motion. It was only a matter of time for you both to flip-flop.” She said this in an amused tone, showcasing with her hands. “Your souls were swapped. Thankfully, you both existed in two different universes. At least you still look like yourself!” She laughed and muttered under her breath, “That’s not always the case.”

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightened, his expression darkening. “So you’re saying the Vanserra soul is now in another world?”

“Precisely, a human world to be exact,” the witch replied, still smiling. “Two souls, two worlds. It’s a perfect balance, really.”

You felt a wave of panic rising. “How do we reverse it?”

The witch’s eyes gleamed with a mix of pity and amusement. She moved to a back room behind a tacky purple curtain. “Now let’s check on the actual Vanserra using this doll.” She returned, holding up a rather awful sewing job of a cat with two buttons of separate sizes for eyes. “Ah, just as I thought, the Vanserra accepted the swap. You see, when she came in here, she would claim she was bored of this life. Bored of the mundane. She wanted a life of change, so I gave her your world. It’s more human, so of course, a shorter life span, but your world is rather peaceful.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean she accepted the swap? And what does that mean for Y/n?”

The witch shrugged delicately. “It means that once one soul accepts the swap, the other must accept as well. The balance must be maintained. The Vanserra is content in your world, living a new life, free from the burdens she faced here. She has accepted her new reality.”

The witch handed you the poorly sewn cat doll. “You could always communicate with her via your dreams. Given the situation, she hasn't reached out, perhaps hoping you would accept this world. To do this, you must sleep with this cat.” She gave you a look that said, 'You want my help or not, kid?' You stayed silent as you accepted the creepy, poorly sewn cat doll.

Azriel eyed the doll skeptically, then asked, “So she can talk to her in this dream state, but if the other has accepted, what does that do?”

The witch shrugged. “Provides closure, knowing that you are stuck in this world. You said you wanted adventure, right, kid? Well, here it is.” She gestured grandly with her hands.

You began, your tone edged with annoyance. “I wanted adventure as in, I don’t know, changing my degree or winning the lottery. Not my soul being transported to another world.” You gestured to Azriel. “Let’s say I do accept this role. What do I have to do?”

The witch hummed thoughtfully. “You must do five cartwheels, a handstand while saying ‘I choose this life,’ and then your soul will be sealed, and both eyes on the cat will match.”

Azriel gave her a look of utter disbelief before turning to you. “Can you even do a cartwheel?”

You nodded confidently, flexing your non-existent muscles at him. “Absolutely. I’m practically a gymnast,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

The witch clapped her hands. “Wonderful! Now, if you’re ready, you can begin. The sooner you accept, the sooner you can start living your new life fully.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed but resigned. After the witch had swindled the two of you out of two hundred gold, he kept your hand in his as he winnowed you both to the Healer’s cottage.

“We’re going to bed and getting this whole thing situated,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you down the hallway to your bedroom.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” you began, but he interrupted, “I am going to sleep next to you to make sure that you are safe and sound.” The look he gave you was one of ‘Don’t test my patience.’

As you both lay in bed, you stared at the ceiling, trying your best to sleep but unable to quiet your mind. The song lyrics of Kendrick Lamar’s "Certified Lover Boy, Certified Pedophile" played on repeat in your head. Azriel, too, was wide awake, his presence a mixture of comfort and tension.

Slowly, sleep began to take you. You found yourself being led by a black cat into the dreamscape.

In the dreamscape, you met someone who could have been your twin, except she had the most perfect posture known to man, the exclusive Vanserra glare, and was wearing a ballgown.

“So, you’re the one who took my spot?” she said, looking you up and down. Surprisingly, you were wearing modern clothes in the dreamscape.

You nodded. She continued, “Your world is... perfect. I mean, I don’t have to worry about beasts or my abusive father. I have my own apartment, music that can play at my fingertips. Your world may not have magic, but it is... magical.” She sounded amazed by your everyday life, one that now seemed mundane to you, having always wished for fantasy and adventure.

“But you hurt your mate,” you stated angrily, remembering the pained look on Azriel’s face when he learned that the real Vanserra had accepted her life in a human world, that this world was not enough for her.

The Vanserra’s eyes softened with a hint of regret. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I was just so desperate to escape. My life here was a constant battle, a fight for survival. I didn’t realize how much pain I would cause him... or you.”

“You could have at least tried to work things out,” you countered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Azriel is suffering because of this. He loves you—loved you—and now he’s trying to figure out what to do with me, someone who’s not even from his world.”

She looked away, guilt evident in her expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the consequences. I was selfish. But I can’t go back now. I don’t want to go back. Your world is everything I dreamed of.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” you asked, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. “I’m stuck here, in a world I don’t understand, with a mate who’s heartbroken and confused.”

The Vanserra met your gaze, a newfound determination in her eyes. “You have to make this life your own. Embrace it, as hard as it may be. Azriel deserves happiness, and if I can’t give it to him, then maybe you can.”

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the ritual. “I guess this is it,” you said, looking around the dreamscape one last time before focusing on the task at hand.

One cartwheel. You felt the shift in the air, the magic beginning to weave around you.

Two cartwheels. Your movements became more confident, your resolve strengthening.

Three cartwheels. The world around you seemed to blur, the dreamscape fading into the background.

Four cartwheels. The energy of the ritual thrummed through you, a pulsing beat that matched the rhythm of your heart.

Five cartwheels. As you landed, you transitioned into a handstand, your voice steady as you declared, “I choose this life.”

The Vanserra twin gave you a smile, a mixture of relief and encouragement in her eyes. “Good luck, Y/n,” she said softly, her form beginning to dissolve as the dreamscape faded completely.

When you woke up, you surprisingly had tears in your eyes. Azriel was already awake, gently stroking the hair out of your face. The poorly sewn cat doll was clutched in your hands, and its once mismatched eyes now both gleamed evenly.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His touch was tender, a stark contrast to the intimidating persona he often projected.

You nodded, still processing the weight of what had happened. “I... I talked to her. The real Vanserra. She’s happy in my world. She’s not coming back.”

Azriel’s expression was a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “So, this is really happening,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re here to stay.”

You nodded again, feeling the truth of it settle deep within you. “Yes. I’ve accepted this life. I’m going to try and make it work. For both of us.”

He sighed, a sound that was half-resignation, half-hope. “Then we’ll figure this out together.”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the bond between you grow stronger with every passing moment. “We will,” you agreed, a sense of determination filling you.

Azriel pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Welcome home, Y/n,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

[moonlightazriel]

Son of the Darkness XVIII /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: Blood and death, it’s a war after all ahahaaha

Word Count: 3,7K

Notes: The end is almost there, I love this fic so much, it was a nice ride.

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Sweat coated her forehead, her muscles burned but her sword kept finding the destiny. Jurian had warned about the left flank that they should attack near the border with Summer Court. They moved the army there through the night, not stopping for a single second until they were all gathered.

And he was right, the whole army was taken by surprise as they were being trapped between the troops of night and autumn. Fire blazing from the south, meeting the shadows in the middle of the battlefield.

As they arrived last night, Azriel once again assumed his Spymaster title, going around and gathering information about the Hybern’s troops. They decided to attack from a hill, where Feyre now waited with her sisters. He had tried to ask Y/N to stay behind in the beginning but even with her numb end of the bond, he could feel the eagerness for joining the battle.

So there she was, near Cassian, he would fight from the skies while she killed enemies by foot. The two generals fought together like they had done this for years perfectly synchronised, Azriel felt a pang of jealousy in his chest as he watched from the other side of the camp.

A team of healers would gather the wounded, and the bodies. Evanore would bring them to life while Ellora and Kharis healed. Y/N killed another soldier, protecting the healer that rushed by her side.

The battle was happening for a couple of hours, with the surprise attack, it was easier to get rid of the inexperienced nobility that commanded the army. Y/N was targeting a male, his armour more detailed than the common soldiers, she could see his terrified face as he saw her smirk from across the field, like he knew he was going to be next.

Her body was covered in blood and mud, her footsteps heavy with the mud clinging to her boots, but she opened a path directly for him, her shadows killing the males that dared to get in between her and her target. She knew that the easiest way to create chaos among soldiers was watching their superiors, those who should be leading them, fall.

So she delighted in the sound of the male demanding others to protect him and hold the line, to kill that damned bitch and take her head for him. The males brave enough to try and stop her didn’t last more than a minute as her shadows stole their senses one by one, until they forgot how to breathe and their convulsing bodies touched the ground.

“Get away from me, demon.” The noble yelled, foolishly holding his shaking sword up, trying to intimidate her.

“I’ve been called many names.” She started, spinning her sword before clutching it harder, aiming for the exposed neck. “Dying men tend to be really creative, you know? The Bloody Countess, Lady Darkness, The Dark Fury.”

Her sword clashed against his, the male’s unstable hand easily letting go of the blade, the sword flew from his hands and fell to the ground. She kicked the male to the ground, stepping into his chest. He sobbed.

“But it’s the first time someone called me a demon, I like it though.” She pressed her sword to his neck, slowly pushing the blade inside.

“Please don’t kill me.” The male begged, blood pouring from his neck as he tried to get her off of him.

“Darling, I don’t take war prisoners.” She slid the blade all the way, watching the male choke on his blood and the soldiers around them start to walk backwards. She let her shadows go, males falling to the ground as she looked at them like someone would look at the sunset.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She watched from the top of the hill, sipping down on a jug of water, the blood coated field, the bodies of all the Hybern soldiers laying there, the dead and wounded still being carried and treated.

“I never saw someone fighting like that.” Azriel said from behind her.

“You weren’t so bad either.” She shrugged. He sat by her side and she offered him the water, his hand rubbed against hers as he pick it up, taking it to his lips. She watched closely as a drop of water ran down his chin.

“Makes me feel good.” She raised an eyebrow. “Knowing that you’re so strong and can protect yourself. Brings me relief.”

“I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.” She confessed and he grabbed her hand, slowly walking until he was standing in front of her.

“Not even being High Lady?” He asked and Y/N stiffed, her eyes scanning his face to see any trace that could indicate that this was a joke, Azriel looked serious, more than she ever had seen him in this time they knew each other.

“What?” Azriel touched her chin, holding her face in between his hands, caressing the bruise on her cheek from a punch.

“I love you, more than the amount of stars in the sky, more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. I want you to be by my side in every aspect of my life. As my lover, as my general, as my m…” He cut himself off, he would wait for her, he could do that. “And having you as my High Lady would be a privilege.”

“You really mean it?” She blinked the tears away, feeling her heart swell.

“Every. Single. Word.” He said, and she angled her body towards his, kissing him on the lips.

“My heart belongs to you, I belong to you, body and soul.” She said as they parted. “I’m yours, Azriel Malthalion.”

“And I’m yours, Y/N Daera.” He kissed her once more. “My love, my warrior, my High Lady.” She felt her chest warm, she liked that, belonging to someone, to him. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel had gone back to run around gathering information, Y/N offered to go with him but she had to stay and help ease the tensions in camp, four different armies united surely would just end up in tragedy.

Cassian and her had delivered tasks and he made people dig a trench around the camp, the armies from Rhys, Azriel and Eris sat together as one but Tarquin decided to not join.

The High Lords and the generals sat in the war tent, things had gone eerily quiet for 5 days, so they needed to discuss what to do next. Y/N sat there, sharpening her sword and keeping a close eye on Evanore, she was by Eris’s side, chatting like long time friends.

She was happy that her friend was able to spend time with her mate, Eva deserved happiness more than anyone, and she could always chop his dick off if he did anything to her. He must’ve felt that he was being watched, cuz he turned to look at her, swallowing hard as she pressed the sharpening stone a bit too hard against the blade, smiling friendly at him next.

“They moved.” A very out of breath Azriel appeared in the middle of the tent, making everyone jump to attack. “They’re moving towards Winter.” He concluded.

“They what? How did we miss it?” Rhysand ran a hand through his hair.

“Jurian did say this was just a playtime for them. The real army must’ve been moving for days now.” Tarquin pointed, making everyone sigh, they felt like idiots.

“We need to go.” Eris pointed.

“But what if they come back? We can leave this spot unguarded.” Cassian replied.

“We can march to the North AND stay here.” Everyone turned to the Summer prince. “We can cast a spell, a really good one, one that makes them think we’re still here.” He pointed to the map. “Let them think we chose to stay here.”

“While we go to the north covered by a spell.” Evanore jumped. “Good old visual spell, my favourite.” She smiled.

“Can you do this kind of illusion?” Varian asked Rhysand.

“With the help of my mate.” He held Feyre’s hand.

“Then it’s settled, Evanore helps with the army disguise, while Feyre and Rhys use the illusion spell to pretend we’re still here.” Tarquin said that was a good plan, it should work just fine.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The witches once again, with the help of everyone who could winnow, transported the army to where Azriel had said Hybern would be. They could see the army, still hidden by Evanore’s spell, so Cassian and Y/N decided that the army should rest, everyone should rest their powers. Choosing their battles was another important move in a war.

“This army is bigger.” Rune said, looking at Evanore. The witches sat, praying to The Mother and the nature.

“They’re too tired, their magic is weak to defeat them.” Alais stated, she could feel it in her bones.

“We have to do something, Rune.” Thalia begged, she wanted to go home knowing they would be safe to see another day.

“There’s only one thing we can do.” Ryo looked to her sisters, all of them nodded in agreement and Rune took the lead.

The witches walked to the centre of the camp, each one of them forming the Seven Pointed Star. The singing started, the soldiers stopped at the sound of their voices, so loud that echoed through the trees and their hearts. Each one of them started to glow, each one of them working as a gate for the infinity magic that graced the land.

Tiredness, drained magic, wounds and worries all vanished, replaced by a breath of life, filling their blood with renewed power, buzzing with excitement to get to war. It was a simple ritual where they offered a couple of their years to the nature in order to gain more power. They could choose between keeping it to themselves or giving it to others.

As they finished their chanting, the atmosphere had changed, and it felt like they had all the energy in the world, the energy necessary to win that battle.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Keir’s troops formed the front, a wave of Hybern’s soldiers clashing against them, they tried to hold the line but it was useless, the weak army was also an illusion, and they were more than ready to fight.

“Hold the line.” Cassian yelled, the Illyrian soldiers forming the line behind, forcing Keir’s soldiers to go forwards but Hybern pushed them back.

Y/N stood very still, this wasn’t working, they had to penetrate the shields, and this wasn’t even Hybern’s whole army. Y/N looked at Cassian across the field. If the generals took the lead, the soldiers would follow.

So she ran, through lines of men, every male stepping back to let her pass. Cassian turned to her with a lifted eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?” She took a deep breath.

“How much can you carry?” She inquired and his eyebrows shot all the way up to his hairline.

“What?”

“Can you carry me?” Cassian nodded. “This isn’t working, we have to act now.” Fire burned in those brown eyes, determination laced with bravery, she was going to risk herself so they could have a chance.

Azriel would have to forgive him, but he ordered for her to turn around, grabbing her by the waist he shot for the skies.

“I’ll drop you, and I’ll find another place, we open a path to each other.” Cassian shouted over the roaring of the wind in her ears, she nodded.

Azriel watched the waves of Rhysand power push the soldiers, but it was the red glowing up in the air that caught his attention, he shielded his eyes from the rain, spotting Cassian with his arms open. Y/N fell, the wind whipping her braid around, a mist of shadows touched the ground before she did, and she fell in the middle of the dead corpses, swords in hand and ready to fight.

Cassian landed a little further away from her, soldiers aiming for him, bloodlust in their eyes as they tried to get a piece of the Illyrian general. The plan was simple: kill as many as he could, enough to weaken the army so their troops could cut through.

“I’m going after them.” Azriel announced in Rhysand’s head, and he hummed in agreement, Cassian and Y/N had been smart enough to attack from inside, but they couldn’t do it all alone.

Azriel aimed for the skies, as soon as he was far away enough from everyone, he changed. Mist covered him and he felt his magic doing its trick. The huge gryphon screamed, descending upon the soldiers, the corrosive shadows doing what they had to.

This attack led to more confusion, distracting Hybern’s soldiers enough to get the Illyrians and the Night Fall through. Blood splattered everywhere and the agonising sounds of battle filled the space. The rain kept pouring, washing away the blood dripping from the armies.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Hold the lines.” Mor begged, pacing around. Nesta kept her eyes focused on the red light that indicated where Cassian was.

“I need to find The Suriel.” Feyre stated. Morrigan turned to her in an instant.

“You’re not leaving.”

“He’s the only one who can tell us where to find the rest of the army.” She declared.

“Then I’m coming with you.” She stomped her foot down.

“Your talents are being wasted here, they need you there.” She pointed to the battlefield, she had noticed how eager to join Mor was.

“Rhys is going to kill me.” She protested, but her eyes drifted to the war.

“He won’t, I’ll be safe.” She reassured and Mor nodded.

“Please, Feyre. Be safe.” Feyre nodded, waiting until Morrigan was ready, winnowing to Cassian in that field. She then reached for the only person that could help her find The Suriel, Elain.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N kept moving, trying to find Cassian as they planned, but she instead found Morrigan, fighting her way to Cassian. Azriel was on the other side of the battlefield, killing with his mist.

“Do you think he needs our help?” Morrigan shouted, her blonde hair glued to her forehead as the two females fought.

“They always do.” Mor aimed for the soldier rushing to kill Y/N, the other female spinning around and blazing her shadows in a straight line.

The battle was nearing the end once more, Tarquin and his army passed through, with Eris following close behind. And when Morrigan and Y/N finally reached Cassian, he was kneeling in the mud, an open wound from his belly button to his sternum.

“NO!” Mor shouted, Y/N squeezed her shoulder.

“Take him to the healers, it’s over now.” Mor did as she was told, disappearing with him.

Conjuring all of her magic, soldiers fell, and fell and fell. Until her lungs begged for air, until only a few soldiers stood, throwing their swords to the ground and giving up. Tarquin was responsible for their destiny, and once again every soldier choked from inside out in water.

Azriel was by her side in a second, removing her helmet and assessing her face for any injuries, despite the tiredness she felt, she was fine.

“We need to go and see Cassian.” Azriel nodded and the two winnowed again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Will he?” Feyre couldn’t bring herself to finish that question.

“He might be sore for a few days and definitely he will need to rest, but he will be fine.” One of the healers said and Nesta breathed loudly with relief. She hasn’t left the general’s side ever since Morrigan brought him to the tent.

“Good.” Azriel breathed. They all watched the pieces of skin slowly patching itself together as Ryo drained the ash from him.

“How bad is it?” He suddenly asked, his eyes fluttering open.

“Your wound or how they kicked our asses?” Rhysand mocked, his eyes laced with worry.

“We barely got alive, but the witches are working in the wounded and the dead.” Y/N spoke, her voice eerie.

“I gave you an order.” Rhys’s tone was harsh, and they all knew that fear was behind his words.

“They weren’t holding the lines, it was a stupid order.” Cassian retorted.

“I’m your High Lord, you can’t ignore my orders.” He protested.

“But you’re not mine, and It was my idea.” Y/N intervened. “Cassian needs to rest, I’m so sorry things ended this way, but I wouldn’t ask if I knew he couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t ask if I knew it wouldn’t help us.” Rhys looked at her with anger.

“He could’ve been killed.” He screamed.

“But I wasn’t.” Cassian tried to stand but a sharp pain sent him back to laying. Rhys immediately went to his side, sighing deeply.

“After everything we went through, I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, neither of you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m just scared.” The female kneeled in front of him, squeezing his hands in a reassuring grip, like her mother did to her when she was young.

“It’s okay. We’re all scared, but no one will die. I won’t allow it.” She promised and he trusted her.

“We should leave, everyone needs to rest.” Y/N nodded, getting up and pulling Azriel with her.

“It’s not your fault, you know that right?” He asked.

“It was my idea that left him in that state, Mor had to hold his guts so they wouldn’t spill out of him.” The image was burned to her brain.

“I know, love, I know.” He pulled her for a hug. “You need to rest.”

“I need to check on Eva.” She moved away from him but Azriel held her hand, and the two of them started to walk side by side.

They found Evanore sleeping by the healers section of the camp, her head resting on a certain redheaded male’s lap, his hands slowly combing through her hair.

“How is she doing?” Y/N asked and Eris turned to her, he had a bruise in his eyebrow.

“She’s tired, she worked hard but we don’t have any more dead men, they’re resting and are eager to be on the battlefield again.” The female nodded.

“Eris, promise me that you will take care of her, no matter what.” The male looked at the sleeping female in his lap, so tiny.

“For some reason, the idea of seeing her getting hurt completely shatters my heart, I could never forgive myself if something happens to her.” It was only then that Y/N noticed their intertwined hands.

“Thank you, you’re a good male, Eris Vanserra.” She pulled Azriel away from them.

“What was that?” He asked with curiosity, he never saw Eris being so protective of someone other than his mother.

“They’re mates.” Azriel stopped.

“They what?” He giggled.

“What about I tell you while we have a bath?” She winked and the male followed her to their shared tent.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

He watched her sleeping form, clutched to the sheets and snoring softly, she fought so hard today, she needed to rest. He left to fetch something for her to eat when she woke up, stopping by to see how Cassian was doing.

He found them in the war tent, Amren was there, they quickly exchanged greetings before they focused on the materials in front of them. Amren held the book of breathings while Nesta eyes the bones and stones placed on top of the map.

“So, I just throw it and we find the cauldron?” The female asked and Amren shrugged.

“Something like that.” Nesta grabbed the pieces, closing her eyes and feeling the coldness pierce her skin.

“Think about the cauldron.” Cassian suggested.

“Not only think about it, project your mind towards it. Find the bond that tie you two together.” Amren spoke.

Nesta took a deep breath, the room fell silent, and the temperature fell even more, a cold shiver ran down their spines.

“Should I touch it?” She asked.

“No, find it but don’t interact with it.” Amren instructed.

“Nothing can hurt you here.” Cassian reassured and Nesta seemed to calm down a bit, focusing on that disgusting cauldron, the hunting memories making her terrified, but she needed to keep going.

He got up, despite Azriel trying to get him to sit back, but he walked to Nesta, slowly placing his hand on her lower back, drawing invisible soothing circles, everyone watched as she allowed the touch.

Nesta started to shiver, her hands clutching so hard that her knuckles turned white. “Let go!” Amren ordered, but she just held the stones tighter.

“I need to help.” Feyre said, closing her eyes and entering her sister’s mind, she could see the images, the King, the never ending army, Jurian and she could feel the cauldron.

“NESTA OPEN YOUR HANDS!” Feyre yelled in the tent, again and again until Nesta opened her hands, the bones and the stones forming a circle in the map. Cassian got hold of Nesta, while the others looked in pure horror.

The king has been sending them to the North while he gathered his troops near the Mortal lands, not too far away from the old Archeron property. Once again they had to move.

They shared their knowledge with the other High Lords, Tarquin had suggested that they should rest and think about it tomorrow, Feyre and Rhys seemed deep in a mind to mind conversation while Cassian took Nesta to bed.

Azriel walked to the kitchen, fetching two cups of water and as much food he could carry. As he walked back to his tent, he saw Nesta and Feyre standing in the middle of the camp, pale faces and terrified expressions.

“You can hear it too?” Nesta asked and Feyre nodded, Azriel felt it in a second. Something was deeply wrong.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N woke up, she could hear something, pulling her somewhere, her feet slowly dragged her outside, dipping in the mud as she went barefoot.

It felt like a presence in the corner of her mind, something was wrong, the hair in the back of her neck prickled and she darted towards the Archeron’s tent. Just in time to see Elain being held by a shadow, tears in her eyes as she tried to scream.

Y/N tried to reach out for Elain, but to no avail, her arms and legs wouldn’t move and she was stuck, being transported through the folds of space, directly to the enemy's camp.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff @patdsinner33

[barnesafterglow]

no other shade of blue

summary: your life is nothing but pure cold, until the day they pull steve rogers out of the ice

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: soulmate au, fluff, not-quite angst??, shield still can't handle their shit but maria hill sure can, maria x natasha till i die, the overwhelming potential for a part 2

a/n: so i ironically started this on the fourth of july, and decided roughly 24 hours ago that i was going to finish it so. here it is.

masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post 🤍

The first memory you had was of a bitter cold. Before happy memories in a sprawling backyard and cartoon band aids on a scraped knee, there was the brutal chill that seeped into your bones, into every inch of your being.

Though your own memory didn’t serve you, the first moment your mother had with you was much the same - a baby girl laid on her bare chest, only to flinch at the feeling of ice on her skin.

You spent countless years being poked and prodded, every medical test at the disposal of your doctors, and then specialists, and then scientific journals, and an answer was never found. In every other sense of your wellbeing, you were fine. Your organs worked, and there was never any danger of losing your extremities, so they stopped looking for answers and told you to move on.

Eventually, you were resigned to sweaters even at the height of summer, and whispered prayers that your soulmate didn’t have to endure the same icy existence.

You learned to live with it, and your friends learned to keep their distance at sleepovers and movie nights, and boyfriends and girlfriends alike never stuck around for long. It was hard to love someone who only offered cold hands instead of a warm heart.

For all it deterred your love life, the cold had no effect on your studies, and you excelled in the sciences, graduating with honors and securing a job at SHIELD just weeks after you got your degree.

You were puttering around your corner of the lab, pulling your sweater tighter around you despite the warmth of summer in Manhattan outside the floor to ceiling windows, when Maria Hill entered through the sliding glass doors, as frazzled as you had ever seen her.

“You’re going to want to see this,” is all she said before she turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. You managed to slide in just as the doors closed, more than a little bewildered at her behavior. You knew SHIELD and their plethora of secrets, but there were few things that were wrapped up so tight that they couldn’t even be spoken about in the safety of your lab.

“Male, approximately 27 years old, possibility of severe hypothermia but… we really don’t know.” Her voice was hushed, like she couldn’t bear to admit that they didn’t know.

“I’m not a medical doctor, Maria. A PhD doesn’t mean I can see patients, no matter who or what they are.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the elevator descended far below street level. It was going to be one of those days. “Why are you coming to me about this?”

“We don’t need you as a doctor, we need you as a scientist. He’s been frozen in ice for almost 60 years. We have no idea what to expect when he wakes up. If he wakes up.” She reached over to squeeze your arm, your best friend shining through the facade of your Deputy Director, for just a moment. “It’s Steve Rogers.”

Your jaw dropped, but you weren’t able to formulate a response before the elevator doors slid open, and the immediate bustle of SHIELD agents stole any comment you may have had. She released her grip on you and straightened up, leading you through the winding maze of SHIELD’s underground headquarters, before stopping at a steel door with more security than you had ever seen.

Maria nodded at the two junior agents, putting her hand to the biometric scanner as soon as they stepped aside, and you followed her inside, proud of yourself for barely flinching as the heavy metal slid to a close behind you.

The first thing you noticed was the fact that you could see your breath in the air, which was odd considering the room felt no different in temperature than the one you had just come from, then you followed her gaze to the center of the room.

It was, without any other way to describe it, a huge block of ice. It didn’t necessarily look out of the ordinary, but even from across the room, you could see the lines of distorted red, white, and blue peaking through. And there, as you finally got the courage to step closer, was the unmistakable face of Captain America.

You got the strangest urge, then, to reach out and touch his partially covered face, to see if his frozen temperature rivaled your own, when someone cleared their throat, and you looked up to see a handful of people watching you curiously.

Embarrassed, you stepped back into place beside Maria and waited for further instruction.

After that it’s… a bit of a blur. There were a flurry of more senior scientists than you, and you wondered again Maria needed you there when her team was more than capable. You more or less stood in the corner and watched with your best friend as they took what looked like glorified hair dryers and began melting away Captain America’s icy tomb.

Once the block had melted away and he laid there in his battered stars and stripes, he was hooked up to more machines than you knew their purpose. The only one you could focus on was the heart monitor directly in front of you.

It was a daunting flat line, a slow, steady beep, no indicator of any sign of life. It was a long shot, you all knew that - even you, so out of the loop but kept in the room anyways. He had been at the bottom of the Atlantic for 66 years, and only the grace of god or Abraham Erskine could save him now.

Maria, who always knew more than she ever let on, motioned you towards his side, and you almost gave into your earlier impulse to brush your fingertips against the stark blue of his lips when the monitor changed. A small blip, but enough for a flurry of activity to cascade through the room, and you were pushed right back into the corner where you had been for what felt like hours.

It wasn’t until the monitor was beating in a steady rhythm and Maria finally ushered you back to the upper levels that you realized you weren’t quite so cold anymore.

–

It had been two days since Steve Rogers came out of the ice, and you had steadily felt your body temperature rising. It was odd, feeling warm - like an actual human, because that typically only came with copious amounts of alcohol and a heated blanket.

You hadn’t heard any more news about him, besides the hope they had to slowly acclimate him to the 21st century. Maria had been very tight lipped about the entire situation, and you had a feeling it was more than just the fact that it was a highly top secret SHIELD project, as they usually were.

But you couldn’t help the undeniable pull you had towards him, the sneaking suspicion that it was more than a scientific draw that had you almost desperate to see him, to know how he was progressing.

It was on the fourth day that you reach the average body temperature - something you had never before achieved in your life - which also happened to be the day SHIELD fucked up irreparably on their exposure of Steve to the new world.

Roughly an hour after they managed to draw him away from the streets of Manhattan and back to SHIELD, Maria appeared at your apartment door.

“You need to see him.”

“Why?” you asked, but you were already grabbing your shoes, following her out to the car still running at the curb.

She said nothing until she was behind the wheel, giving you a look somewhere between sympathy and excitement.

“I found out Natasha was my soulmate when we were sparring. She broke my nose - by accident, she swears - and felt it on her own. She kissed me right there, in front of junior agents and with blood streaming down my face.”

You remembered when she burst into your lab minutes later, blood still on her face and gripping Natasha’s hand; she was so excited to tell you.

“I know the story, Maria. Why are you telling me?”

“I’m just saying, meeting your soulmate isn’t always,” she paused, searching for the word, “conventional.”

It rarely was, when so many found their soulmate in the form of pain - spilling searing hot coffee on them and feeling the sting of the burn or a papercut when there was no way for you to get one, but your soulmate had.

There were, of course, cute meetings, like feeling the squeeze of a hug too tight or the pinch of a cheek from a grandmother, but it didn’t happen often. Soulmates didn’t happen very often.

You weren’t even sure if you believed in them; there was no science behind it. Nothing besides the words of love struck couples.

Which is why you were confused by Maria bringing it up. She knew your stance, even after seeing her relationship with Nat.

“I want you to meet Steve,” she said as you pulled into the garage at SHIELD.

You just looked at her, trying to keep your face blank, waiting for further explanation.

“I think he might be yours. Your soulmate, I mean. It makes sense, him being in the ice and you…” she gestured in your direction, “being cold.”

It sounded stupid, it sounded insane, but you trusted Maria’s judgement, and, if nothing else, you could at least say you tried.

-

When you met Steve, it was in a model SHIELD apartment - sleek and modern and nothing even close to a home - with Maria hovering by the door, waiting to save you if you said the word.

“Hi.” You weren’t sure if he knew why you were even here, so you just started with introducing yourself, telling him you worked for SHIELD.

“I know who you are.” He flushed a pretty pink across his face. “Well, I think I do, anyways.”

You felt your own face heat up and, praying he couldn’t tell, you stuck your arm out to shake his hand.

He must not have known his own strength; his grip on your hand was so tight you flinched a little, and he looked at his own hand in wonder.

“I… I felt that,” he said, sounding just as amazed as he looked. “So, it’s true?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t feel anything. Can I…?” He nodded and you deliberated for a moment before pinching him in the side. Well, you tried at least. The skin there was taunt, and your mouth watered a little at the thought of it.

Snapping yourself out of it, you realized you hadn’t felt anything, and your heart dropped. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes, should never have gotten in the car with Maria, shouldn’t-

“That didn’t hurt.”

“What?”

“It didn’t hurt. That was a baby pinch, you’ll have to do better.” The corner of his mouth turned up into something akin to a smirk, and you felt like you were being made fun of. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear.” Did you say that out loud? “It just takes more than that to hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Steve.”

“That’s kind of the whole point of this, sweetheart.” His face flushed red again - even more than before - at his slip of the tongue, but Maria saved you both.

By making her way over and punching Steve in the stomach. He curled over just a bit, and you felt a pressure - something like a punch - in your abdomen. When you looked back up at him, there were tears in your eyes. But not from the pain. No, this was pure joy at finding your soulmate.

It was then that you noticed the calm presence of him, it was as if he soothed every pain you had ever felt, like he was taking it all away. It was as if he were a balm to your very soul.

You were so entranced with each other that you didn’t notice Maria slowly making her way out of the room. All you could see was a deep sea of blue, staring at you with the same intensity you felt burrow into your chest.

You took a step closer to him, then two, three, until you were so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, and you knew he was doing the same to you.

Maybe it was too soon, but no one knew the magic of soulmates, the insatiable need to touch them, unless you were the one experiencing it. So when Steve dipped his head to kiss you, it just felt right.

There were no fireworks or sparks, no fanfare or an immediate need to act on any desires. There was only one word you could use to describe Steve Rogers.

Home.

[soft-cloud-pillows]

[auro-cyanide]

My reading list

✅ ⭐Not your typical reincarnation story

✅ The tyrant wants to be good

✅ The remarried empress

✅ From a knight to a lady

✅ Divorcing my tyrant husband

✅ ⭐ Men of the harem

✅ ⭐ My in-laws are obsessed with me

✅ ⭐ Philomel the fake

✅ ⭐ Forget my husband, I'll go make money

✅ Post possession damage control

✅ I adopted a villainous dad

⬜ Mother's contract marriage

⬜ Solitary lady

✅ Secret lady

✅ ⭐ Being raised by villains

✅ Kill the villainess

✅ ⭐ I shall master this family

✅ The archduke's adopted saint

✅ ⭐ Villains are destined to die

✅ ⭐ Not-sew-wicked stepmom

✅ Catherine's key to a happy life

✅ ⭐ How to win my husband over

⬜ Ennead

⬜ The golden forest

⬜ The fantasie of a step mother

⬜ My secretly hot husband

⬜ To be you, even just for a day

✅ Concubine walkthrough

✅ Trash of the count's family

✅ The villainess reverses the hourglass

⬜ The reason Raeliana went to the duke's mansion

✅ ⭐ Carrier Falcon Princess

✅ ⭐ Who made me a princess

✅ Just the male lead's friend

✅ ⭐ The villainess's stationary shop

✅ The villainess's blind date is too perfect

✅ Marriage of Convenience

✅ The villainess flips the script

✅ The perks of being a villainess

✅ I listened to my husband and brought in a lover

✅ I just want my happy ending

✅ ⭐ I think I've been possessed somewhere

✅ How to hide the emperor's child

✅ The grand duke's fox princess

✅ I am the real one

✅ You are obsessing over the wrong person, lord of the tower

✅ ⭐ An extra stole the male leads

✅ ⭐ How to survive as a maid in a horror game

✅ The monster male lead living under my bed

✅ My villainous family won't let me be

✅ ⭐ Adopted by a murderous duke family

✅ The reason for the twin lady's disguise

✅ ⭐ Raising my fiance with money

✅ The Villainess is a marionette

✅ Seducing the monster duke

✅ ⭐ Baroness goes on strike

✅ The villainess captured the grand duke

✅ Baby prisoner of the winter castle

Stopped reading for now

🔳 Lady chef royale

🔳 The price of a broken engagement

🔳 The beloved fake saint

🔳 I don't need a proposal

🔳 Siella's revenge affair

🔳 Crowing a spoiled prince

🔳 The first night with the duke

🔳 Tricked into becoming the heroine's stepmother

🔳 I thought my time was up

🔳 My three tyrant brothers

🔳 My husband changes every night

🔳 I created a harem by accident

🔳 I will divorce the female lead's older brother

🔳 Lady Adelyn the homebody

🔳 I'm the queen in this life

🔳 The beloved fake saint